


More Than Meets The Eye

by aliciameade



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rachel comes to Santana's defense, Santana sees something in her she'd never noticed before.</p><p>Originally written February 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Stoic.

It was the only word Santana could think. A jock she sneered at her and called her a dyke while she swapped textbooks at her locker as coolly and calmly as she could.

"You just need to be done right," he said as he reached behind her and slapped her ass, and then grabbed it.

Santana's jaw clenched. It was all she could do to not spin around and punch him square in the jaw. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he pissed her off. She was just grateful she was wearing jeans and not her cheer uniform.

"Stop it!"

Santana felt his hand get shoved away and she turned, surprised to see Rachel behind her, fuming.

"Get your disgusting hands off of her. Not that subpar experiences with men have anything to do with sexual orientation, but if it did, I highly doubt you would be the one to, as you so eloquently put it, 'do her right.'"

The jock held up his hands innocently, still leering. "Hey, chill, babe. Maybe you can join us. I'm into those little schoolgirl outfits. I bet the carpet muncher here is into it, too."

Rachel's palm connected with his cheek with a loud  _crack_.

"If you  _ever_  talk about her that way again – " She didn't finish the sentence, but the look in her eyes finished it for her.

He stood, dumbfounded, for a second before calling Rachel a bitch and walking away, ignoring the stares and sniggers other students in the hallway were giving him.

Santana was just as stunned. She felt Rachel's hand take hers for a moment, and a quiet "I'm so sorry, Santana," before she was left alone at the wall of lockers.

* * *

Santana was unable to focus on her classes the rest of the day. She was humiliated, and beyond pissed off. It had been all she could do to not beat the shit out of that jackass. And then there was Rachel, coming to her defense when she had spent the better part of four years tormenting the girl. She hadn't even thanked her.

"Hey, Berry," Santana called, jogging to catch Rachel in the parking lot before she closed her car's door.

Rachel stopped and pushed the door open wider. "Hello, Santana."

Santana held the door's frame, suddenly unsure of herself – a rarity, to say the least. She looked down at Rachel, staring up at her expectantly.

"Did you want something? I'm going to be late for ballet."

"No, I – "

Rachel dropped her eyes and started to close her door, but stopped. "Are you okay, Santana?" She didn't look up.

Santana hesitated. She should thank her. She should be nice. Rachel defended her, the least she could do is say 'thank you.'

"Hells yeah, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," Rachel said quietly, pulling the door closed and starting the engine.

Santana stepped away so Rachel could back out. She started walking toward her own vehicle when something made her pause. She glanced back as Rachel stopped to shift, and they caught one another's eye. Rachel smiled, and damn it anyway, Santana felt herself smile, too.

* * *

Santana saw him coming – the same dumb jock from yesterday, a huge 48oz slushie in his hand, headed straight for Rachel.

"Hey, dumbass!" she called. He stopped and turned, anger evident on his face. "Wow, so you answer to dumbass? That was just a stab in the dark, but good to know." She glanced at Rachel, who hadn't seen him coming until Santana called out, and motioned for her to get away.

"Have a change of heart, sweet cheeks?" he said, sauntering up to Santana.

"Maybe," Santana said, licking her lips. "I wouldn't mind making you scream my name."

The jock puffed out his chest and popped the collar on his jacket. "I think you'll be the one screaming, baby."

"Somehow I doubt that." Santana stepped closer – close enough to see that she made him nervous.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Because there's no way you're as good at going down on girls as I am."

His head snapped back, face red, furious. Santana ducked just in time, the blue raspberry slushie missing her and covering Coach Beiste just as she stepped out of the Teachers' Lounge. Santana had intentionally planted herself in front of the door, hoping to catch a teacher in the line of fire, but this was too perfect. All she could do was point at the jock and laugh as Beiste stared at him in shock.

"Coach, I didn't – Santana – she – you weren't – "

"On the field. Wind sprints. 60 minutes. NOW," she bellowed, sending the jock away with his tail between his legs.

Beiste ignored Santana, walking down the hall, dripping bright blue slushie, head held high.

Santana turned to go to cheer practice, but noticed Rachel tucked between a bank of lockers and classroom door. She was smiling. "Thank you," she mouthed.

Santana shrugged and walked away, knowing she was smiling again.

* * *

"Hello, Santana."

Santana looked up from her cell phone. She'd been checking her email between sets in McKinley's weight room and was surprised to see Rachel standing behind the leg press's foot plate, barely visible due to its height.

"Come out of your cave, Hobbit."

Rachel stepped to the side. She was holding a stack of sheet music against her chest tightly, almost like a shield. "I came to formally express my gratitude for earlier, but I can see you're uninterested in even the most basic of pleasantries. Sorry to interrupt your workout."

Santana sighed and pushed her seat back so she could climb out of the machine and stand. "All right. Go ahead."

Rachel's eyes lit up. "Santana, thank you so much for stopping that guy. You have no idea how much that meant to me. Even Finn and Puck can't get those stupid jocks to stop."

"They're scared they'll catch it in the face instead of you," Santana said with a laugh.

Rachel giggled and took a step forward. "I don't blame them, it kinda hurts."

"I know." Damn it anyway, she was legitimately feeling bad for Rachel. "Hey, listen. If you tell anyone I said this, Berry, I will slushie you myself, but thank you. For getting rid of him yesterday."

Rachel ducked her head a little, acknowledging the threat, but she was still smiling when she looked up again. "You don't deserve to be treated that way. You've done your share of bullying, but that doesn't make it OK to do it to you. I can tell you are trying to be better, and people aren't making it easy for you. But you are a good person, Santana. You deserve to be treated like one."

Santana knew she was blushing and hated herself for it, but she couldn't help it. People never talked to her that way, especially not people she had made a career of belittling at every given opportunity. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling far too vulnerable. She sniffed, glancing around the room until she was confident her voice wouldn't waver.

"That's really nice of you to say. After everything."

Rachel shrugged. "Life is better seen when you look for the good in people instead of the bad." She stepped forward again, invading Santana's personal space. "Can I hug you?"

Santana's knee-jerk reaction was to laugh, insult her, and walk away, but she remembered what Rachel had said: a  _good person deserves to be treated like one._  Instead, she dropped her arms in silent permission.

She was surprised at how quickly Rachel's arm was around her neck, the other pressing sheet music against her back. She expected her to let go immediately, but Rachel only squeezed her tighter, until Santana wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, holding her gently.

"Now was that so hard?" Rachel said quietly.

Rachel's breath tickled her ear, and she had to hide the shiver that ran through her by adjusting her arms a bit. Her hands itched to move, so instead she flattened them against Rachel's back, inadvertently pulling her closer.

Rachel sighed. "This is nice."

Santana didn't know what 'this' was, but she agreed. She settled her arms more comfortably around Rachel, letting a hand slide up to the back of her neck. She didn't know why she had been compelled to do it, but when she heard the sheet music hit the floor and Rachel's arm tighten around her waist, she knew it had been the right decision.

"Rachel," she ventured, running her thumb down the length of Rachel's neck.

Rachel lifted her head and leaned back, looking up at Santana with those big, innocent brown eyes. "You called me 'Rachel,'" she said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Santana arched an eyebrow. "Don't make me regret it."

Rachel pressed her lips together, indicating further silence.

"Don't do that," Santana whispered, bringing her hand to Rachel's cheek, brushing her thumb along her lower lip to draw it back out.

"Why – "

Santana lowered her mouth near Rachel's, hovering a hair's breadth from her lips. She heard Rachel's breath catch, and felt Rachel's small hand on the back of her neck, the slightest pressure pulling her. Her lower lip caught Rachel's upper, and Rachel inhaled quickly.

Santana tried to pull back immediately, but Rachel's hand held firm behind her neck.

"Do that again…please?" Rachel breathed.

Santana didn't understand why it was happening, but she gave up trying to figure it out when she saw the way Rachel was staring at her lips. Instead, she gave Rachel what she wanted and brought their mouths together fully. She felt Rachel's fingers try to creep into her hair, but unable to due to her tight ponytail.

It was her turn to gasp when Rachel tilted her head and coaxed her lips apart to slip her tongue between them. Santana met it with her own, and the tiny sound that came from Rachel made her entire body flush with heat. She felt a sharp tug on the base of her ponytail, forcing her to break their kiss while Rachel pulled the elastic band out of her hair.

"Rache…"

But Rachel didn't say anything. Instead, her lips were on Santana's neck, and her hands in Santana's hair, ruffling it out of its ponytail. The release of tension and wetness against her skin made her moan, and she immediately bit her lip to cut it short.

"You can't bench two hundred!"

It was the only warning they had before the doors to the weight room crashed open, Finn, Puck, and Sam arguing good-naturedly about who could bench press the most weight. It sent the girls leaping apart, staring wide-eyed at each other before Rachel hurried to pick up her forgotten sheet music that had scattered across the floor.

"Sup, Santana? Workin' on those gorgeous gams of yours?" Puck said with a grin, dropping his gym bag next to the rack of free weights.

Santana was so flustered, she couldn't think of a single retort. Instead, she turned, grabbed her own bag, and rushed out of the gym.

"Dang, I was just joking. Whatever. Two hundred. Rack it."

Finn was already sliding weights onto the bar before he noticed Rachel picking up the last pieces of paper. "Oh, hey Rache. What are you doing in here?"

"I just needed to talk to Santana about something," she said, her voice wavering as she tried to get out the door before Finn blocked her.

"What happened? Why did she run out of here, and your music's on the ground? Did she do something to you?"

"Not exactly," Rachel replied. "If you'd excuse me?" She ducked around Finn before he could say anything else, and was gone.

* * *

Santana didn't understand what had happened yesterday. She had kissed Rachel Berry – and Rachel Berry had kissed her back. And they had both apparently enjoyed it. She knew she had, anyway. And  _damn_ , that girl knew how to kiss. She couldn't lie to herself. Rachel had crossed her mind once or twice in the past. When she looked past her ridiculously immature wardrobe, she could appreciate Rachel's figure. And her annoying confidence and ambition was almost…endearing.

When Rachel strode into the choir room, Santana watched her until Rachel looked her way, and then she looked away quickly, embarrassed and unsure – two emotions she wasn't comfortable with. She was grateful that she didn't have to get up and perform today. She couldn't get rid of the jitters, and they only got worse when she would glance at Rachel. Sometimes, Rachel was already looking when she turned, and it made it worse. At least Rachel seemed equally distracted.

Santana spent the hour deciding what to do. She finally decided to wait for Rachel in the hall, knowing she would inevitably have to talk to Mr. Schuester for a few minutes after class.

She was right. By the time Rachel finally emerged, the halls were long empty. Santana pushed away from the wall she was leaning against. Rachel glanced at her and then looked at the ground, walking away quickly.

"Rachel." It was scarcely above a whisper, but Rachel stopped and turned, slowly. "I was wondering, um…if…can we go for a walk?"

Rachel nodded and clasped her hands in front of her, avoiding eye contact. They walked down the hall, silent for a minute or two before Santana worked up the nerve to say something.

"I hope…I hope that what happened…that it was okay. I mean…I didn't mean to…I know you're not…"

"You didn't force me to do anything."

"I know, but you aren't…"

"I don't need you to tell me what I am or am not. I hugged you. I asked you to…to kiss me. You don't need to apologize for anything. I asked you to do it."

Santana's palms were sweating. She felt flipped upside down. She lacked her ever-present confidence; she didn't know why, and she didn't like it. But on the other hand, it was exhilarating. "So, it was…okay?"

Rachel laughed and finally looked up at Santana as they pushed through the front doors to leave the school. "Are you asking me if I liked it?"

Santana blushed and looked away. "I meant if you were okay with it. That you aren't upset it happened." She felt Rachel nudge her shoulder as they walked to their cars.

"I'm not upset."

Santana exhaled. "Good."

"And I did like it."

The surprising statement made Santana stop and turn to look at Rachel.

She was smiling as she looked over her shoulder while unlocking her car. "I gotta run. See you tomorrow."

* * *

After that admission, Santana couldn't stop the flood of thoughts and images in her mind. Rachel Berry was no longer Hobbit, Midget, Dwarf, or even Berry. She was just Rachel, the girl that wasn't as innocent as she portrayed herself to be, the girl that had teased with her tongue, that had tangled her fingers in Santana's hair and sucked on her pulse point.

Rachel Berry was  _hot._

And she was going to have to do something about it.

Santana found that, once she had admitted this to herself – that she was attracted to Rachel – and, knowing Rachel had enjoyed it as much as she had, she had her confidence back. She was almost out of uncharted territory.

Santana caught Rachel's arm at the door when she arrived for glee practice, spinning her in place to face her. "So, I was thinking. It's Friday and you should come over to my place tonight." She let go of her elbow, but lightly dragged her fingernails down Rachel's forearm in the process.

Rachel's eyes were wide, a slight flush visible high on her cheeks. "You're inviting me to your house?"

"Why not?" Santana shrugged. "We can get takeout from Breadstix and watch a movie. Or whatever we feel like doing." She could tell Rachel was running possible responses through her mind, and she smiled, pleased that she wasn't outright rejecting her. Not that she had even considered that as a possibility.

"I guess that would be fine," was the answer Rachel finally gave with a slight smile.

"Sweet." Santana uncapped the pen she had been holding and grabbed Rachel's hand to write her address on her palm. "You want that spaghetti and not-meatballs? I'll pick it up."

Rachel seemed a little taken aback. "You know I'm vegan?"

"Uh, yeah. Who doesn't?" Santana put her pen away and smiled. "See you at 7:00. Bring a movie."

* * *

Santana was unpacking the takeout on the coffee table – Rachel's meatless spaghetti and her own lasagna, a dozen bread sticks, and twin Caesar salads – when her doorbell rang. She frowned; they had put Parmesan cheese on Rachel's salad.

"Just a sec!" she called toward the door, stopping in the nearby guest bathroom to check her appearance. She adjusted the straps of her bra under her simple black tank top and ran her fingers through her hair a few times after shifting her jeans to sit more flatteringly on her hips. She didn't need to go overboard. Rachel was already on the hook; all she needed to do was reel her in. Satisfied, she pulled the door open, and heard herself stutter.

"H-hey…wow." Rachel had clearly put some effort into her wardrobe. Gone were the argyle skirt and sweater with the Scottish terrier woven in that she had been wearing at school. Rachel was wearing distressed, loose, light-wash jeans with holes in the knees. They reminded Santana of her favorite pair of boyfriend jeans. She'd paired them with a sweater, but not the elementary school sweaters that were her trademark. This one was thin, and cream colored, and ridiculously oversized, the neck so wide it sat across Rachel's shoulders at an angle, one side on her shoulder, the other hanging off. It showed a black bra strap, that is, when her hair wasn't hiding it, parted on the side and flipped toward her bare shoulder instead of down the middle and behind her back like usual. And she was wearing flip-flops? No saddle shoes or cutesy flats with flowers glued on the toes? And was that…eyeliner?

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Come in." Santana stepped to the side to let Rachel pass, unable to stop her eyes from checking her out from behind.  _Damn._

Rachel hovered in the living room, absentmindedly fanning herself with the DVD in her hand until Santana closed the door and crossed the room to her.

"So, what did you bring? Some Streisand thing from the 60s?" Santana asked, grabbing the DVD from Rachel and flipping it around so she could see the cover. " _Inglourious Basterds_?" Her surprise must have been obvious.

"Is it okay?" Rachel set her purse on the floor by the television and moved to sit on the couch, but opted to slide down to the floor and stretch her legs out under the coffee table.

"Yeah, it's an awesome movie. Just surprised is all." Santana shook her head as she popped the disc out of the case and into the DVD player. It seemed like the moment Rachel stepped out of her glee bubble, she was a completely different person. One Santana was finding increasingly attractive.

"I do find more than classic musicals to be enjoyable. Is this mine? The S&M?" Rachel added, peering under the lid of a Styrofoam container that had 'S&M' written on top in Sharpie marker.

"What?" Santana whipped around, shocked at that term coming from Rachel. "Oh. Yeah, spaghetti and meatballs. Or, meatless balls, I guess. Do you want a soda? Water? We have whatever."

"Diet Coke?"

"Sure."

Santana returned a moment later with a pair of sodas and eased herself to the floor next to Rachel. "They put cheese on your salad. I told them not to. Sorry."

Rachel opened her salad, evaluating it for a few seconds. "It's ok, I think I can get most of it off," she decided, starting to flick shreds of cheese into the other side of the plastic clamshell container with her fork.

They ate together in relative silence, the movie the only dialogue in the room. Santana wasn't used to Rachel being silent for so long. She usually talked a mile a minute, for hours at a time. She glanced to her left. Rachel was completely engrossed in the film.

"So," Santana started, nudging Rachel with her elbow to get her attention. "I wouldn't peg you for a Tarantino girl. You really like this?"

"Mhm," Rachel replied as she finished chewing. "Little Jewish girl grows up and gets epically dramatic revenge on the Nazi bastards that killed her family? Can't really go wrong with that."

Santana laughed. "You have a point. Ew, how do you even eat that?" she added, pointing at Rachel's questionable pasta.

"Eat what?"

"That. What is it even made out of?"

"Vegetables. Grains. Soy."

"Gross," Santana said, shuddering as she took a bite of her meat-and-cheese lasagna, as though it would negate the atrocity to Italian food.

Rachel shrugged. "It tastes the same."

"If you close your eyes." Santana nudged Rachel again. A second later, Rachel gasped, eyes lighting up.

"You just quoted  _Rent_  at me!"

"Took you long enough," Santana replied, glancing at her sideways and smiling.

Rachel elbowed her in return. "There's a theatre nerd hiding in there somewhere."

"Never said there wasn't."

Their conversation settled again, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Santana closed the lid on her almost-finished lasagna and sat back, stretching her arms along the couch behind them. Rachel leaned back a few minutes later and bumped Santana's arm. She jumped, but Santana didn't say anything. She pretended to be focused on the movie, but she was completely focused on Rachel, waiting to see what she would do, if anything.

It took another ten minutes, but eventually Rachel sat back, her shoulder blades resting along Santana's outstretched forearm. One of those shoulders was bare, and feeling Rachel's skin against her own was enough to make Santana's pulse skip a few beats.

"Oh, ew!" Rachel flinched and closed her eyes, turning away from the screen. "I love this movie but why does it have to be so gory?"

"Tarantino," Santana answered simply. She took advantage of Rachel's discomfort and relaxed her elbow, letting her arm drape around Rachel's shoulders. "I'll tell you when it's over." She felt Rachel stiffen a little, but she didn't pull away.

Santana turned away from the television, too, to watch Rachel. She didn't understand why she hadn't noticed it earlier. Or maybe she had, and it confused her and that's why she was always so compelled to bully the girl. But Rachel was…beautiful.

"What?" Rachel opened her eyes.

Santana's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Did you just…say I'm beautiful?"

_Oh, God._  Santana looked away, at the ceiling, at the table – anywhere but at Rachel. She hadn't realized she said that out loud. "No, I…no. It must have been the movie." She felt a hand on her cheek, bringing her face-to-face with Rachel.

"I've seen it enough times to know that's not a line in the movie."

Rachel was looking at her with those big, sparkling brown eyes. God, she was breathtaking.

"I think you're beautiful, too," Rachel whispered, her palm leaving Santana's cheek to slide fingers into her hair. "Will you kiss – "

Santana cut her off, bringing their mouths together. Rachel's reaction was immediate, parting her lips beneath Santana's. Santana took the hint and slipped her tongue out to find Rachel's waiting for it.

It grew heated quickly, the uncertainties of the first kiss gone and the awareness of being in a public place absent. Santana couldn't keep her hands off Rachel, holding her neck, her arms, her waist. When she could no longer stand it, she broke away from their kiss, leaving Rachel panting as she dropped her mouth to that tantalizingly bare shoulder, almost biting it is she placed wet kisses along it, working her way up to Rachel's neck.

It was too easy with that neckline – Santana's hand slid across Rachel's back under the sweater and suddenly Rachel was pressed against her, the few inches that had been between their hips as they sat on the floor, gone. She pulled the other side of Rachel's sweater, slipping it over the shoulder that held it up and moved her kisses to that side, not even realizing that the action had dropped Rachel's top to her waist.

"San…Santana…wait."

The word registered with Santana and she froze, opening her eyes to realize what was happening. Rachel's sweater was pooled at her waist, leaving her in a simple black bra. She hadn't even noticed that Rachel had her tank top pushed up to the edge of her own bra until Rachel pulled it back down.

"I'm sorry," Santana said, holding the back of her hand to her mouth, catching her breath as Rachel pulled her sweater back into place.

"It's okay," Rachel answered as she adjusted the shirt to hang properly again. "That was just…a lot. Really fast."

Santana nodded and pushed herself a few inches away, feeling trapped between the coffee table, Rachel, and the couch. She watched Rachel slide the table and lift herself up enough to sit on the couch on her knees and pat the cushion next to her. Santana moved on autopilot, sliding herself up and backwards onto the sofa. She was confused when Rachel immediately moved and swung a leg over Santana's lap, sitting against the tops of her thighs.

"Whoa," Santana said quietly, surprised, hands automatically moving to Rachel's waist. Rachel's hands were in her hair again, combing it back and away from her face.

"Just...no undressing. Okay?"

Santana nodded, a little astounded by it all. She looked up at Rachel, face flushed pink with excitement.

"Good," Rachel said with a smile. "Because I would really like to keep kissing you."

Santana smiled, too. "Yeah?" She ran her hands up Rachel's back, under the sweater, but she was careful not to lift it.

Rachel sighed, her back arching a little from the caress. Santana couldn't resist pressing her lips to hollow of Rachel's throat. She felt fingers twist in her hair and her head was pulled back.

"Yeah," Rachel breathed before covering Santana's lips with her own.

Santana may have been the one leading when they were on the floor, but now, on the couch and in her lap, Rachel had stolen the power. When Rachel tugged on her lower lip with her teeth, Santana decided she was quite fine with the exchange. She let her hands drift down Rachel's back, hovering at her waist before moving back to rest them against her backside, pulling Rachel forward ever so slightly, just enough to create a hint of friction between them. They both moaned and Rachel let go of Santana's lip, holding her at arm's length, hands on her shoulders.

"This feels really good," Rachel said, licking the excess moisture from her lips.

"I know. Stop talking." Santana tried to sit forward and recapture her mouth, but Rachel locked her elbows, keeping her back pinned against the sofa.

"Wait," Rachel said with a breathy laugh.

"Sorry," Santana said apologetically, removing her hands from the grip they had on Rachel.

Rachel found Santana's hands and entwined their fingers, bringing their hands to sit in Santana's lap. "You don't have to apologize. I just…need to slow down. It's…a lot, all at once…and – "

Santana interrupted her. "It's okay, I understand."

"You do?"

As much as it physically pained her to agree, Santana felt the same way. "Yeah. We should take it…slower."

Rachel smiled. "You aren't mad?"

"Well," Santana started, trying hard to not think about how Rachel looked a few minutes ago, just sitting there in her bra. "My body's saying yes, but my mind is saying it's okay to wait."

Rachel giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder, throwing Santana a smoldering look that would have made her knees weak had she been standing. "Santana Lopez, did I turn you on?"

Santana rolled her eyes to kill the surge of arousal that came with that stare. "So what if you did?"

"Then I might take a little pride in that," Rachel replied, grinning.

Santana was finally starting to relax, and let her head fall back against the couch. "You know, Rachel, I gotta say I'm a little surprised. Pleasantly, but surprised."

"Surprised?"

"Yeah, I mean..." Santana lifted a set of their hands up and pointed at Rachel's midsection. "Look at you."

Rachel looked down. "What about me?"

Santana smiled when Rachel looked up again, confusion evident on her face. "You're a babe."

Rachel blushed. "I'm not."

Santana lifted her head to look at Rachel squarely. "You are. And no one should ever tell you differently."

"Well, thank you," Rachel replied shyly.

Santana shook her hands free from Rachel's to adjust the tilt of that ridiculously sexy sweater. "I really dig this look on you. Why don't you dress like this for school?"

Rachel shrugged. "I've seen what girls who dress maturely go through. Even you cheerleaders in your school-issued uniforms, boys are always whistling, making comments. I don't want to be objectified like that. I'd rather be teased for being too conservative than have my butt grabbed by some creep in the hall between classes."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. That makes a lot of sense." Santana shook her head, shocked that Rachel was putting on a ruse to avoid unwanted attention. It wasn't that she lacked fashion sense, or even the desire to dress her age. She simply chose not to.

"It's worked so far."

"Well, snaps for you, then," Santana said with a smile. "You have the entire school fooled."

Rachel tossed her hair again, batting her eyelashes. "All the world is a stage. Why not seize every moment to hone my craft?"

Santana laughed. "Well, as long as you drop the act around me, I can get behind that."

"You like me like this?"

Santana ran her eyes over Rachel again. "Oh yeah."

Rachel grinned. "Good. Anyway, I should probably go home."

Santana wrapped her hands around Rachel's thighs, keeping her in place. "It's still early!"

Rachel's grin turned sly. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course." Santana's heart was already pounding from the way Rachel was looking at her. Rachel was leaning down, and she wet her lips in anticipation of a kiss, but Rachel moved past her to her ear.

"You turned me on, too," Rachel whispered before pulling back and pressing her mouth to Santana's in a quick but thorough kiss. "I need to go home. And think about you," she added before finishing the kiss with a light peck, crawling off Santana's lap as she sat stunned, once again.

"Thanks for dinner," Rachel said, completely casually, as though she hadn't just admitted what she had to Santana a moment ago. She grabbed her purse and stepped into her sandals. "I'll get the movie from you on Monday if you remember to bring it to school. Otherwise, just whenever."

"Yeah, okay," Santana managed, coming out of her haze.

"See you in a few," Rachel said with a wink before pulling the front door closed behind her, leaving Santana in stunned, frustrated silence.

"Jesus," Santana finally said before pushing herself off the couch to pick up the remnants of their dinner.

She was going to need to need a cold shower.

And maybe she would see Rachel in a few minutes again, too.

* * *

Santana's phone chimed its text message alert as she was combing the tangles out of her wet hair. She picked it up, surprised to see it was from Rachel. She opened the message, and dropped her comb.

_You were amazing._

For someone that wanted to take it slowly, Rachel sure wasn't being very coy with her flirtation. Two could play that game.

_So were you._

* * *

"Hi!"

Santana pulled her head out of her locker as she grabbed a notebook to see Rachel standing next to her. The plaid skirt and knee socks were back, as was the perfectly centered part in her hair.

Santana eyed her, a little self-conscious after their text message admissions, but Rachel was her usual bright-eyed and happy self.

"Hey."

"I just wanted to say I had a really good time Friday."

Santana smiled and closed her locker. "So did I."

"Did you happen to remember my movie? It's okay if you didn't."

"Oh! Yeah, I have it." Santana swung her backpack around and pulled the DVD out of its front pocket, handing it to Rachel. "I was wondering if – "

"Yes."

"But I didn't even – "

Rachel's silly smile was widening. "Yes."

Santana cocked her head. She was trying to ask Rachel on another date, but she wouldn't even let her get the words out. And then the bell rang.

"I'll call you tonight," Rachel said before turning and skipping away.

"She's friggin' skipping…YOU'RE SKIPPING!"

Rachel waved, acknowledging the comment without turning.

Santana shook her head and started to class, feeling a little like skipping, too.

* * *

Santana was using her laptop in bed when her phone rang sometime past 11:00.

"I figured you'd be in bed by now," she said in greeting, after seeing the name on her phone's screen.

" _I am. Aren't you?"_

"Well, yeah."

" _Then we're in bed together."_

Santana pulled the phone away from her ear, double-checking who she was connected to. She hadn't misread: it said definitely 'Hobbit.' She made a mental note to fix her address book entry later.

" _Hello?"_

"I'm here. Sorry."

" _You were going to ask me something at school today."_

"Oh, yeah. I was." Santana felt all hot and bothered. She didn't know if Rachel's comment had meant to be riddled with innuendo, but it was, and it was effective.

" _You can ask me now."_

"Oh. Right. Yeah, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me again."

" _Are you kidding? It's all I thought about all weekend."_

Santana snapped her laptop closed and put it on the floor, switching off the bedside lamp. She didn't know if this conversation was going where she thought it was, but she wanted to be ready.

"Yeah. I had a lot fun."

She heard Rachel sigh, or maybe it was a weak laugh.  _"So did I."_

Santana took a chance, testing the waters. "I don't think I've ever been kissed like that."

It was most definitely a sigh that time.

Santana bit her lip and lay down, letting her free hand rest on her stomach. "And your skin is so soft."

Rachel didn't say anything, but she was still on the line.

"The way you pulled my hair drove me crazy. And your tongue…"

She heard Rachel whimper, and it was enough motivation for Santana to slip her hand under the waistband of her pajama pants, echoing her whimper. She didn't realize how turned on she'd gotten until she felt it.

"Rache," she said with a quiet moan.

" _Santana…oh God, I have to go. I'm sorry. Bye."_

The line went dead.

Santana stared at her ceiling, heart pounding, her body aching with need. "Are you kidding me?"

* * *

Santana caught Rachel in the girls' restroom the next day, having followed her in. When Rachel opened her stall to step out, Santana pushed her right back in, latching the door behind them. She acted before Rachel could say whatever it was she was opening her mouth to say, pulling her close and kissing her until she needed to stop to breathe.

"What are you doing?" Rachel whispered, clinging to Santana's shoulders.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Santana answered and kissed her again, letting her hands roam until they found Rachel's backside. She held it and jerked her pelvis forward, colliding with her own.

Rachel moaned and broke the kiss, chest heaving. "We're in a bathroom," she said quietly. She hadn't completely pulled away, though, and Santana felt her shifting her hips ever so slowly against her.

Santana brought her lips to Rachel's neck, sucking gently. "Then next time you call me when you're touching yourself, don't hang up."

Rachel leaned into her, stifling a moan. "My dads were at my door. I thought they were asleep, but they wanted to talk about…oh God…my NYADA essay."

"Call me tonight." Santana pulled back to see the desire swimming in those beautiful eyes, and then planted a firm kiss on Rachel's lips.

Rachel nodded against her and Santana reached back, unlatching the door so she could leave and go to class.

* * *

Santana smirked when her phone rang at 8:30. "It's early. Are your parents still awake?"

" _I locked my door."_

Santana almost moaned at that, and got up and locked her own door before lying down on her bed. "What are you wearing?"

" _That's so cliché."_

"So? I want to be able to imagine you."

" _An old grey t-shirt. Not very sexy."_

"Anything else?"

" _No."_

Santana closed her eyes. "Then it's extremely sexy."

" _What about you?"_

"A white tank top and black shorts."

She heard Rachel sigh and knew what that meant.  _"Take them off."_

Santana pushed her shorts off, almost kicking them from her ankle in her excitement. "They're off."

" _I can't believe you caught me in the bathroom like that today. Anyone could have walked in."_

Santana remembered how Rachel had pressed so close to her, rolling her hips against her. She trailed her fingers along the top of her thigh, wondering if she needed to wait.

" _Your mouth feels so good against my skin."_

Santana couldn't help but moan, remembering the way Rachel tasted.

" _I want to feel it again."_

"You will."

" _Right now."_

"I'm there, kissing your neck."

" _No. Right now."_

Santana opened her eyes, confused.

" _I'm outside."_

"You're…what?"

" _I'm outside. Let me in."_

Santana dropped her phone and almost fell off the bed as she scrambled to find her shorts to pull back on before running through her house, skittering to a stop at her front door. She swung it open without hesitating, unable to believe Rachel really was standing on her front step, smiling as she dropped her phone into her purse.

"Hi," Rachel said, stepping in and pulling Santana right into a kiss. She backed them up a few steps until she stopped, and giggled. "I don't know how to get to your room."

"Oh. This way." Santana grabbed Rachel's hand and led her down the hall, grateful her parents were watching TV in the den at the other end of the house. She pulled Rachel into her bedroom and closed the door, flipping the lock as she pressed her back against the door, leaning down to taste her neck.

Rachel moaned and Santana shushed her gently, wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist to pull her close and away from the door.

"Your parents are home?"

"Mhm," Santana said, her mouth otherwise preoccupied along Rachel's neck.

Rachel's hands were roaming, up along her arms, and down her back until they were on Santana's backside.

"What happened to slowing down?" Santana mumbled, pulling a very willing Rachel toward her bed.

"I only wanted to slow down so I could make sure I knew what I wanted."

Santana's legs hit the edge of her bed, and she sat down, leaving Rachel standing. She had been honest – she was wearing an old grey t-shirt, but she also was wearing navy blue yoga pants. Santana desperately wanted them off her.

"And what do you want?"

Rachel smiled for a second, and then crossed her arms at her waist, grabbing her t-shirt and pulling it off. Nothing was underneath it.

"You."


	2. Epilogue

* * *

"So, did I rock your world?"

Rachel laughed, covering her face with her hands for a moment before peeking through her fingers at Santana by her side. "I found you to be quite satisfactory."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't start with that prim and proper talk. You'll never fool me again after what came out of your mouth a few minutes ago."

Rachel gasped and one of her hands moved to cover her mouth, the other flying out to thwack Santana's hip. "I can't believe you made me say those things."

"I didn't  _make_  you say anything," Santana replied, feeling quite smug. "I mean, I did, but you could have just said stuff like, 'Oh, baby, yes, right there, like that, oh God.'"

Rachel laughed again, shaking head as she turned onto her side to face Santana. "That's so mundane."

"And mundane is not an adjective listed under the definition of Rachel Berry." Santana smiled as Rachel leaned down to kiss her, lingering just long enough to steal her breath.

"No, it's not." Rachel got comfortable next to Santana, sharing a pillow. Santana felt Rachel's fingers grazing in circles on her stomach, making her shiver before coming to rest on her waist in a lazy embrace. "Anyway. I thought my approval was pretty obvious. I mean I know I rocked  _yours._ "

Rachel was right. It had been all Santana could do to keep quiet enough to not attract her parents' attention. They may have been at the opposite end of the house with the television blaring, but without her painstaking self-censorship, they would have had an extremely uncomfortable situation on their hands.

"You were aight." She felt Rachel's silent chuckle and turned to press her lips to Rachel's forehead. "You wanna just stay here tonight?" She sighed when Rachel moved over her, kissing her thoroughly.

"I would love nothing more, but my curfew is 11:00 unless I asked permission to be out late before I left. And I left without saying anything tonight."

Santana pouted when Rachel climbed off her and out of bed, retrieving the two simple pieces of clothing she'd shown up wearing. "You sure you can't stay?"

"I don't want to get grounded," Rachel said as she pulled her grey t-shirt over her head. "I want to be allowed to have a sleepover at my friend Santana's house this weekend."

Santana sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. She saw Rachel's eyes drift across her bare breasts and smirked. "What, you wanna get with this again?"

It was Rachel's turn to roll her eyes. "Santana, I think we have established that I enjoyed myself with you."

"I can't help it if I like you stroking my ego a little."

Rachel bent down to kiss Santana, hovering long enough to whisper, "That's not all you like me stroking." She pulled back before Santana could capture her lips again.

The words succeeded in making Santana blush. "You know what you're doing. What can I say?"

"How about, 'See you tomorrow'?"

Santana hauled herself out of bed and pulled on her shorts and shirt with a sigh. "I'll walk you out."

* * *

If Santana had been part of the American Theatre Wing, Rachel Berry would have won Tony Award for the performance she gave at school every day. The tousled, passionate woman that had begged to be touched had reverted to the perfectly well-kept, innocent young lady with her cute plaid dress and ribbon in her hair.

"Good morning, Santana." Even her voice was different.

"Hey," Santana said, eyeing Rachel's wardrobe. Knowing who the real Rachel was made these innocuous outfits ridiculously tantalizing. Visions of janitor's closets and hushed lovemaking danced through her mind.

"Stop that."

Santana leaned against the wall of lockers, not taking her eyes off Rachel.

"You're practically undressing me with your eyes."

"Oh, there's no 'practically' here. That's exactly what I'm doing."

Rachel just smiled and curtsied. "Walk me to Chemistry?"

"Sure. Though, I feel obligated to point out," she added after a few steps, "that we have plenty of chemistry already." She nudged Rachel's hip with her own.

Rachel nudged her back. "We're at school."

Santana smiled and moved to slip her arm around Rachel's waist, but Rachel sidestepped to the left, out of reach. Santana's smile fell immediately. It felt like a dagger in her gut.

"See you at lunch," Rachel said when Santana stopped and fell back.

She hadn't been prepared for rejection, not after the way Rachel had acted with her last night. She hadn't considered the fact that, unlike Santana, Rachel was known for being Little Miss Perfect, and a lesbian tryst was likely at the bottom of Rachel's scale of public acceptability, above perhaps only a teen pregnancy. Santana was offended, and felt almost…used. She ran to the bathroom before anyone in the hall could see her cry.

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

Santana looked up at Rachel's smiling face, holding her tray expectantly at the other side of the lunch table. She shrugged and went back to stabbing at her Salisbury steak in annoyance.

Rachel sat down, unfazed, and began peeling an orange. "I was thinking. Maybe you could join me on this week's glee project. A duet instead of a solo? Personally, I think our voices mesh very well together, and it would be fun. No one would expect it."

Santana felt her jaw clenching. "Why would no one expect it?"

Rachel pulled her orange in half and into its segments, offering one to Santana. "Because everyone knows you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Santana spat as she swiped the orange slice out of Rachel's hand. She wondered when Rachel would clue in to her sour mood.

"Well,  _I_  know that."

"What are you even singing? I wasn't paying attention."

"'No Other Love' by Heart."

Santana felt Rachel's foot under the table hook behind her ankle. It made it damn hard to stay angry. But she succeeded, beginning with a snort of disgusted amusement. "I wouldn't want to tarnish your perfect little reputation."

At that, Rachel's back stiffened. The message finally got through – or at least it was knocking on the door. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rachel's defenses creeping up satisfied Santana, and fueled the hurt she felt earlier in the hallway. She shoved Rachel's foot away with her own. "Careful. Wouldn't want someone to get the wrong idea."

"Santana, I –"

But Santana was already up and leaving the lunchroom. She knew she was probably being immature, that she should just discuss this directly with Rachel and explain how she had been made to feel. But Santana liked anger and spite. It was her default set of emotions. It was comfortable, and she could live there for days, for weeks if she had to.

Santana's phone vibrated after every class.

After English: " _What's wrong?"_

After Physics:  _"Did I do something to upset you?"_

After History:  _"Whatever it is, I'm sorry."_

Santana was still glaring at her phone when Rachel sat down next to her in the choir room. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Apologies don't work when you don't even know what you're apologizing for."

"Santana, please, I don't understand –"

"All right everyone, happy Thursday! Let's get to work!"

Santana had never been so grateful to see Mr. Schuester's stupid face.

"Santana, we didn't have time to get to you yesterday. Why don't you show us what you prepared for this week?"

"Gladly." Santana got up and stood in front of the rest of the glee club. "I changed my song this morning, but I think you guys will do fine with it. It's not very complex," she said, directing her comments to the band.

They nodded and the drummer began the opening, quiet rhythm of Sarah McLachlan's "Stupid."

_Night lift up the shades let in the brilliant light of morning_   
_But steady me now for I am weak and starving for mercy_   
_Sleep has left me alone to carry the weight of unraveling where we went wrong_   
_It's all I can do to hang on, to keep me from falling into old familiar shoes_

_How stupid could I be_   
_A simpleton could see_   
_That you're no good for me_   
_But you're the only one I see_

_Love has made me a fool set me on fire and watched as I floundered_   
_Unable to speak except to cry out and wait for your answer_   
_But you come around in your time speaking of fabulous places_   
_Create an oasis that dries up as soon as you're gone_   
_You leave me here burning in this desert without you_

_How stupid could I be_   
_A simpleton could see_   
_That you're no good for me_   
_But you're the only one I see_

_Everything changes, everything falls apart_   
_I can't stand to feel myself losing control_   
_But deep in my senses, I know_

_How stupid could I be_   
_A simpleton could see_   
_That you're no good for me_   
_But you're the only one I see_

Santana knew it was heavy. Too heavy. Too much. Too fast. But the song had been stuck in her head all day. The chorus hung heavy in her heart. She knew she was being stupid. Rachel Berry was Rachel Berry, and she shouldn't have expected her to be anything but that, and yet she allowed herself to start liking this girl who didn't want to be associated with her in  _that_  way. But she didn't care if it was too much. Rachel had tears on her cheeks by the time she finished singing, and that was all she cared about.

Santana grabbed her backpack and walked out, ignoring Mr. Schuester's questions and requests that she sit down. She needed to get out of that oppressive room and far, far away from Rachel.

"Santana, wait!"

Santana laughed bitterly. She couldn't turn around and face Rachel, not now. She wouldn't let her see her cry. She had made it through that heart wrenching song without shedding a tear, and she wouldn't let Rachel see one now.

"Go back to glee, Rachel." She kept walking, the doors feeling miles away and getting no closer.

"Please, tell me what's wrong. What did I do?" Rachel had caught up with her and jumped in front of her, blocking her path. And seeing her tears. "Oh no, Santana, please, did I do this to you?" Rachel's hands hovered over Santana's cheeks, not quite brave enough to brush away the tears and running mascara.

The concern and worry in Rachel's eyes made Santana sick. "You don't even know what you did. Or didn't do." She stepped around Rachel, making a beeline for the doors a few yards away.

"Santana, I'm sorry!"

"For what?" Santana yelled before throwing the metal doors open and leaving behind the school – and Rachel.

* * *

There were no text messages that evening.

Nor the next day. Rachel wasn't even at school, ruining her perfect attendance for the year.

Her cowardice only angered Santana more. She didn't even have the decency to come to school and deal with Santana's cold shoulder.

So imagine Santana's surprise when she opened her front door to find Rachel on her front step, head bowed and hands clasped behind her back.

Santana stopped herself from slamming the door in her face. "What do  _you_  want?"

"I'm not ashamed of you, Santana."

Santana didn't say anything. Rachel lifted her eyes at the silence, knowing she had figured out why Santana was upset.

"I brought you these," Rachel said, revealing small bouquet of roses she had been hiding behind her back. Pink, orange, and lavender.

_Weird combination,_  Santana thought.

"The pink represents sincerity." Rachel extended her arm and waited for Santana to take the bundle of flowers.

Try as she did to stop it, Santana felt the ice around her heart cracking. She accepted the flowers and gestured, allowing Rachel into her home.

"I have a feeling you want to get a lot of things off your mind," Rachel said. "I think I owe it to you to be quiet and listen."

Santana stared at Rachel, keeping her eyes cold. She was right. She had a hundred hurtful, scathing things to hurl at her to make her feel as bad as she had been made to feel.

"Not here." She turned and led Rachel back to her bedroom where she tossed the roses on her vanity. She would put them in water later, but for now, she wanted to be flippant about them.

Rachel sat down on the edge of Santana's bed and folded her hands in her lap. She hadn't changed out of what Santana had come to consider a costume, and the cutesy plaid dress and flats with bows on the toes made it easier to be angry at her.

"Go on, then."

Santana took a breath, ready to rip into her, but the way Rachel kept her head held high, her eyes locked on Santana's, ready to take the brunt of her anger…Santana deflated. Instead, she broke down into tears.

She was vaguely aware that she was sobbing, and that Rachel's arms were around her, and that she was being guided the few steps it took to get to her bed to sit down. She didn't know how long she cried, or even why she had become so emotional, but she finally became aware of her state and got herself under control. She pulled away from Rachel, accepting the offered tissues with a little embarrassment and disgust.

Neither of them said anything as Santana dried her eyes and nose. Rachel was the first one to speak. Of course.

"Well, now that you really let me have it…"

Santana couldn't help but laugh. She shrugged, letting Rachel continue.

"Santana, I know now what I did to upset you. I want you to know that I didn't pull away from you because I was embarrassed to be seen with you. It had absolutely nothing to do with you being you, and everything to do with me being me."

Santana couldn't decide whether or not she should be offended. "What's that supposed to mean? 'It's not you, it's me'?"

Rachel clasped Santana's hands between her own. "No! No, not at all. I don't care about being seen with you because you are a girl. It's just that I just broke it off with Finn a couple weeks ago –"

"And you don't want people to think you've already moved on, I get it."

"No, Santana. I don't care what people at that school think about me. Don't you know that by now?"

Santana shrugged. "You're always striving for perfection. I assumed."

"I strive for perfection for myself, and for my future. I don't give a damn what the morons at our school think about me."

"Then why?"

"Because I didn't know what I wanted. I thought I wasn't ready to let someone hold me close on the way to class again. I was happy being single, without the constant…overbearing shadow that I felt with Finn."

Santana frowned. "I'm nothing like Finn."

"I know!" Rachel squeezed Santana's hands. "I know you aren't. And it wasn't until I realized just how much it hurts me to see you hurt. It's why I got so angry when that jerk was harassing you. It's why I was home all day, in bed, alternating between crying from self-pity and being angry at my own stupidity. I will never be ashamed to be by your side."

Rachel looked to be on the verge of tears. Santana pulled a hand out of Rachel's to wrap around her and pull her into an embrace. "Thank you."

She heard Rachel sniffle and hug her tighter, and Santana turned to press a kiss to her temple.

"Is this what dating women is like?"

Santana's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Frequent drama and overwhelming emotions."

Santana laughed and wrapped her other arm around Rachel. "Generally speaking, yes."

"Just wanted to know what I'm in for."

Santana pulled back, glad to see Rachel was smiling, too. "Rachel Berry. Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Well, I think we've sort of done this all in the wrong order. But yes."

Santana grinned and moved, pinning Rachel down on her bed. "Then I accept." She leaned down to bring their lips together, kissing Rachel slowly. "Can I hold your hand at school tomorrow?" she asked after a few minutes.

Rachel shook her head. "No."

Santana's face fell, and she started to move off Rachel, but Rachel stopped her with a leg around her waist.

"You can't hold my hand at school tomorrow, because tomorrow is Saturday. But you can on Monday."

Santana felt Rachel's fingers inching under her shirt and she let her pull it off. "This is what you want to do?"

"I think we're a little past the 'are you sure?' conversation, honey," Rachel replied as she deftly unhooked Santana's bra. "Are your parents home?"

She felt Rachel working on the button and zipper of her jeans and struggled to remember if her parents were, in fact, home or not. It was Friday. It was early. They were always at the Matthews' until at least 10:00. "No."

"Good." Rachel sat up and rolled them to pin Santana. "Then we don't have to be quiet this time."

Santana groaned as Rachel moved back to grasp the waistband of her jeans and pull them off. When Rachel reappeared above her, her cute plaid dress and hair ribbon were gone, leaving her clad in ridiculously sexy black lace. She slid her fingers through Rachel's hair and pulled her close. They kissed slowly, almost languidly until Rachel's hand grazed Santana's breast. Rachel broke from their kiss to move her lips to Santana's neck, working her way to her collarbone and down the center of her chest.

"Do you know what the orange rose represents?" Rachel asked, almost a murmur against Santana's skin.

Santana glanced at the flowers on her vanity, thrown so carelessly. It was hard to focus with the way Rachel was plucking so teasingly at the edge of her panties. "No."

"It represents passion. Excitement."

Santana lifted her hips to let Rachel pull them off.

"Desire."

Santana gasped. She had been so unfocused that she didn't notice Rachel hadn't returned to kiss her.

_Well, she_ _ **is**_ _kissing me,_ Santana managed to think. It made her laugh, but her laugh came out as a moan and she reached down to tangle her fingers in Rachel's hair.

It was quick, and intense, and Santana weakly reached for Rachel's hand. "Come here."

Rachel kissed her inner thigh one last time and crawled back up to lay next to Santana, tucked in close.

"Was that okay?" Santana asked, tilting her chin down to look at Rachel.

Rachel giggled and leaned back a little so they could see each other more easily. "That's my line."

Santana smiled and tucked Rachel's hair behind her ear. "I meant were you all right with that."

Rachel pushed herself up onto an elbow, looking down at her. "Why would I do something I'm not okay with?"

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to do something to make me happy."

Rachel smiled. "But all I want is to make you happy. Did I make you happy?"

Santana laughed and turned into her side so she could kiss the center of Rachel's chest, divesting her of her bra in the process. "Extremely."

Rachel sighed and rested a hand on the back of Santana's head as Santana's lips traveled along the curve of a breast. "If you're happy, I'm happy. Oh…"

"Mmm," Santana hummed, her hands tracing indiscernible patterns along Rachel's body as she urged Rachel onto her back.

Later – and not that much later – they heard the front door slam, announcing her parents' return.

"Good timing," Rachel said, still panting.

"Not really," Santana said, a little breathless herself. "I would prefer if they stayed out all night, what with all the things I want to do to you tonight."

Rachel pulled Santana up and over her. "Ooh, Miss Lopez. Are you planning to ravish me this evening?"

Santana bent and kissed Rachel, smiling against her lips. "Until sunrise." Rachel groaned against her lips and her smile grew. "But first, I need a minute. I'm thirsty, and so are my flowers."

Santana rolled off Rachel, who didn't have the strength to protest beyond grasping at her fingers. She flicked the light on in her bathroom, squinting at the brightness. She didn't realize how dark it had gotten in her room; they had never turned on the light, and their eyes had adjusted with the setting sun. She drained a glass of water and refilled it, along with a plastic sports bottle she fished out of her cheer bag.

She was acutely aware that she was walking around nude, and that Rachel's eyes hadn't left her the entire time, but she found it oddly flattering. It wasn't like when the boys at school told her she had a nice ass and catcalled her in the halls. The way Rachel was looking at her, she almost felt…honored.

"For you," she said, offering the glass of water to Rachel.

Rachel accepted it and sat up a little to be able to drink it. "Thank you."

Santana went back to the vanity and picked up her roses, inhaling their sweet aroma. She was a little ashamed she had been so rough with them earlier; she was going to want to dry them once they began to wilt. She dropped the stems into the bottle and turned, waiting until Rachel set the glass on the nightstand before asking.

"You never told me what the lavender rose represents."

Rachel smiled and held out her hand. Santana walked over and took it, slipping back into bed with her. "Well? What does it stand for?"

Rachel slid into her arms and kissed the corner of her mouth gently. "Love at first sight."


End file.
